


For Your Own Good

by Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Nick - Freeform, Bisexual Sam, Dean's a bit of a dick but thinks he's doing the right thing, M/M, Panic Room, Samifer - Freeform, Season 5 AU but mostly canon, Snickerdoodle (Sam/Nick/Lucifer)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 03:46:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18296192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness/pseuds/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness
Summary: Dean, Bobby, and Cas lock Sam in the panic room after Dean finds Sam making out with Lucifer, assuming that Lucifer somehow coerced Sam into doing it.  Except he didn't.





	For Your Own Good

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the square 'This is for your own good' for the Bad Things Happen Bingo. Lucibae on Tumblr/Discord gave me the idea and pairing.

Sam came to, his jaw aching and his head pounding in time with his heartbeat. He wasn’t sure what was going on, so he immediately flicked his head to try to clear it and focus--for all he knew, he might be in the middle of a fight. 

If he was, though, it was a pretty silent fight; he could hear a rhythmic whirring noise, but otherwise? Silence. He sat up, and groaned when he realized where he was--Bobby’s panic room. _Not again,_ he thought. _I haven’t even touched--_ his thoughts trailed off, and he winced. Oh yeah. THAT was why his jaw was sore and his nose was bleeding. Rubbing at the (mostly dried) blood, he climbed off of the cot in the panic room and slowly made his way over to the door. 

“Dean! Dean, I can explain!” he yelled, hitting the door a few times to make sure his brother heard. He was fairly sure Dean would at least be in shouting distance. He waited a few moments for an answer, and then yelled again. “DEAN! Come down here so we can talk! It’s not what you think!” It wasn’t, either, although to be honest he wasn’t entirely sure what ‘it’ was. 

There was no answer. “Bobby?” Sam tried. If he was upstairs, he wasn’t responding either. Heaving a sigh, Sam made his way back to the cot and flopped down on it. What exactly had--oh, yeah. He winced at the memory. He’d been sure Dean wouldn’t be back for hours, so he’d prayed. To Lucifer. Yeah. It didn’t seem to make any sense. 

Except that it did. 

Sam had been meeting with Lucifer--first in his dreams, but lately in person--in order to try to talk the archangel out of going through with the Apocalypse. At first, Lucifer was only interested in getting Sam to say yes to being possessed, but lately the fallen archangel seemed to be considering the arguments Sam was making against fighting Michael. In the meantime, something Sam couldn’t quite explain had happened. 

To start, he’d begun to understand Lucifer a whole lot better. Sam knew what trying--and repeatedly failing--to impress a mostly absent father was like. He even knew what it was like to be so angry with your brother that you could kill him. However, the hunter also knew how important it was to forgive your brother for the stupid shit he did, because your father hadn’t just messed you up, he’d messed your brother up too. Sam had brought Gabriel into the conversation (first figuratively, and then literally), and reminded Lucifer that he still had a brother whom he didn’t want to fight. So, yeah. There were several very good reasons why he was meeting Lucifer in person, and he had no plans to say yes to being possessed any time soon. Nor had a drop of demon blood passed his lips since the incident with Famine.

Of course, what Dean had really flipped out about was the fact that Sam and Lucifer had been making out when he’d found them in the motel room. That...Sam had a harder time explaining that. Not that he wasn’t completely heterosexual--his brother could sit and spin on that information--but actually being attracted to the Devil.

Honestly, Sam wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. Sure, Lucifer flirted practically on automatic, and his vessel was hot and Sam was bi. But Sam really didn’t know how it had gone from harmless flirting while trying to convince each other of what was right to their now semi-regular make-out sessions. 

In any case, Dean had gone to some bar after they’d finished a case, and Sam had prayed to Lucifer. He’d tried to argue that Lucifer should put a stop to the Apocalypse, but the archangel hadn’t been in the mood, so they’d ended up kissing and touching and losing both their shirts in the process. Thankfully, when Dean had walked in, it hadn’t progressed any further than that (Sam wasn’t sure if he had wanted it to, or not). 

Sam had stood up, quickly stepping in between Lucifer and his brother. Dean stood there staring at him for a few moments, and then, without a word, his brother had punched him hard enough to make him see stars. After he fell backwards, Dean had apparently punched him a few extra times for good measure. He had hated the look in his brother’s eyes--he hadn’t been betraying Dean!--but he supposed that that was what it had looked like. 

He assumed that Lucifer had flown away--he’d extracted a promise from the archangel early on to not hurt Dean--and had left the two brothers to work it out. 

Dean’s version of ‘work it out’ apparently amounted to locking Sam in Bobby’s panic room; presumably because he thought Sam was going to say ‘yes’ to Lucifer and/or assumed that Sam had been drinking demon blood. And now, neither Dean nor Bobby were answering when Sam shouted. Great. 

With nothing else to do, Sam decided to bow his head and pray to Lucifer, who could probably get him out of the room. After all, it was designed to be effective against ghosts and demons--not archangels. 

“Lucifer, hey, I’m sorry about that. Dean overreacted, and now he’s locked me in the panic room at Bobby’s. Can you, uh, can you come get me out?” Sam didn’t hate cages quite as much as Lucifer did, but only because he hadn’t spent much time in one yet. 

To his surprise, there was radio silence. No one opened the window cover on the door. The door didn’t open. Sam stood up, and began pacing around the room. Maybe Lucifer was busy. That was probably it. Or maybe he was angry that Sam hadn’t told Dean about their meetings, and thought he deserved to stew in his own juices. 

“Argh!” Sam stopped below the fan and threw his head back, making fists with his hands. It was then that he saw the new sigils etched onto the fan. Where on Earth had they come from? They looked as if they were written in....Enochian? His eyes narrowed. “CASTIEL!” he yelled, heading for the door and banging on it again. “CASTIEL, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

He hit the door several more times, but the angel of Thursday didn’t appear. While he was there, he yelled for Dean and Bobby too, in case either one had come back into hearing range. “AT LEAST LET ME EXPLAIN MYSELF, DAMNIT!”

Sam turned, getting angrier by the second, and kicked the bucket that was in the cell with him. He knew better than to kick the frame of the cot; it was bolted down and he was likely to break a toe, especially since he was in his socks. The bucket flew across the room with a satisfying crashing noise, as Sam studied his surroundings more closely. Unfortunately, the bucket was the only thing in the room besides the cot, the blanket on it, and a single bottle of water. They hadn’t even left him a book to read, and of course they’d taken his phone. 

Sam swore up a blue streak before throwing himself back down onto the cot. He supposed that his ‘family’ would show up when they damn well felt like it, and not a moment before. God, what was he going to tell them when they did? He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, groaning. He wasn’t sure there wasn’t anything he could say to make them believe he wasn’t crazy. Hell, he wasn’t sure that he wasn’t crazy.

Sam stared up at the ceiling fan for a while, before deciding he might as well see if there was any way out of the panic room. He sat up, looking around. He knew he didn’t have the strength to deal with the door, and the floor was concrete. That left...he looked up, and groaned. He’d somehow have to pry the mesh grate off of the fan, then stop or unhook the fan itself. If he managed that, he’d have to climb up the air vent somehow. Possible, but… Slumping back on the bed, he decided it wasn’t worth it. He might as well face his family and try to talk his way out before he expended all that effort. Assuming they were planning to talk to him sometime this week...which they had to be; he doubted they were going to starve him. 

.oOOo.

Like many warriors throughout history, Sam (and Dean) had developed the ability to sleep nearly anywhere, anytime, especially when there wasn’t anything else to do. So, when Bobby, Dean, and Cas finally did show up, Sam was asleep. However, it was a light doze, so Sam was already sitting up by the time he finished hearing Dean’s voice say, “Sam. Wake up.” 

Sam stood and walked over to the small viewing window in the door; Dean had opened it. His brother stepped back so that Sam could see that Bobby and Cas were also present. Bobby looked worried--a look that was directed both at Sam and Dean in equal amounts--while Cas looked unflappable, or possibly a bit annoyed that he had to deal with ‘the abomination’ again; Sam wasn’t sure. 

Not surprisingly, Dean took the lead in the intervention, and pulled no punches. “Sammy. What the fuck were you thinking, not telling us about this?! Has he been torturing you to get you to say yes this whole time?”

Sam hadn’t actually thought of that particular interpretation of the situation, but he was angry and had no desire to sugarcoat anything for Dean. “That wasn’t torture, and you know it,” he declared, pointing at his brother through the tiny window. “Look, I know I should’ve told you I was meeting with him, but--”

“For fuck’s sake, Sammy, that wasn’t ‘meeting with Lucifer!’ It was more like ‘stealing third base with Satan!’” Dean’s face was turning red, and Sam noticed, with a dropping stomach, that both Bobby and Cas had wrinkled their noses when he’d confirmed that what he’d been doing was voluntary. He wasn’t surprised, exactly, but he knew it was going to be that much harder to get sympathy from them.

“Okay. Look. I can’t exactly explain that part, but I swear, we were meeting so I could try to talk him out of going through with the Apocalypse. I think I’ve almost convinced him.” Sam was exaggerating, but he knew he’d have to sound like his plan was further along than it was in order to make them hear him out. “Even Gabriel has been talking to him--”

“Yeah? You and Gabriel been playing tonsil hockey too?” Dean retorted, looking completely unmollified. “Having threesomes with guys now?”

“Archangels are neither male--” Castiel began, but everyone ignored him. 

“No, Dean, will you please just--Bobby, can you make him listen to me?” Sam begged his (essentially) foster father, giving him his best puppy dog eyes to try to get him to override Dean. 

“Sorry, son, you’re on your own,” Bobby replied with a shake of his head, while Dean stepped forward and slammed his hand against the door, right next to the visor. 

“Damnit, Sammy, leave Bobby alone! We’re not going to let you out of there! Who knows what Lucifer has done to fuck with your head? It’s just lucky Cas knew how to sever the contact between you two, or we’d be in real trouble right now!” Dean wasn’t backing away from the window. 

Sam stepped up to the window, grinding his teeth. “Lucifer wouldn’t do that!” he yelled, which he knew was exactly the wrong thing to say. At this point, unfortunately, he was angry enough that he was beyond caring. "He cares about me!"

This time, Dean did back away, shaking his head. “Wow. You are so fucked up, you don’t even realize it, Sammy. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to undo whatever he’s done to you.” With that, Dean turned around and stalked off toward the stairs. 

Sam appealed to Bobby next. “Bobby, _please_ let me explain, okay? I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but--Bobby! Bobby, wait!” The older man had turned and headed for the stairs without acknowledging him. 

Sam knew better, but he still tried. “Castiel...look, contact Lucifer. I’m sure he’ll give you safe passage or whatever if you tell him you have a message from me. Castiel, please....” but Cas was turning away as well. “DAMN IT YOU THREE! AT LEAST GIVE ME A GODDAMNED BOOK TO READ!” Sam shouted after them, but there was no answer. At least they hadn’t closed the window behind them. 

The brunette let out a loud huff and then stalked over to begin examining the grate preventing anyone from climbing up (or down) the shaft the fan was in. It was definitely the weakest part of the whole panic room setup. Sam thought that a few of the joints were rusty enough that if he jumped up and hung his entire weight from it, one or more might give way. It was a good way to break a finger, though.

Before he did anything, he glanced back over his shoulder at the door--one of them might actually bring him a book--and nearly had a heart attack. The face at the window looked thoroughly amused at his reaction, and grinned around a lollipop stick. Gabriel gave Sam a little wave, then motioned him over to the door. “Psst. Hey, kid. What are _you_ in for?”

“Gabriel!” Sam gasped, turning and stumbling over his feet while making his way back to the door, placing his palm against it. “Let me out! Hurry, they might come back any minute.” 

“Nope.” Gabriel popped the ‘p.’ “They’re upstairs, having an angsty discussion about how my brother must have wormed his way into your head and forced you to fall in love with him. Because clearly it’s not possible that you could like a guy.” He snorted, tilting his head as if he were listening. “Methinks your brother is projecting.” Shaking his head, he snapped, and the door to the room opened. 

Sam quickly left the room; he wasn’t sure what exactly the plan was, but he wasn’t about to waste time, either. Gabriel took him by the arm, and his stomach stayed in South Dakota while he was magically flown to...wherever they were now. A hotel room, by the looks of it, but this one was luxurious, not the kind he normally stayed in. 

Lucifer had clearly been pacing around the room when Sam and Gabriel appeared. The archangel’s entire face lit up when he saw Sam. He took a step forward, but then paused. “Sam! I was worried! I sent Gabriel to find you!”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, giving Lucifer a slightly seasick smile. “I’m okay. Just some bruises, that’s all.”

“I shouldn’t have left, but I thought it would be easier for you if I weren’t there,” the archangel explained, stepping closer to the hunter. “I assumed you’d pray to me if you needed me, but then you didn’t, and then I tried to find you and couldn’t.” 

“That was little Cassie’s fault,” Gabriel said from behind them. “He made it so none of Sam’s prayers got through to anyone. You couldn’t have found him or opened that door, either, Luci. Luckily, he didn’t think to include me in the warding. No one ever expects me...or the Spanish Inquisition!” 

Lucifer pressed fingers to Sam’s forehead and healed him, while Sam frowned and gently touched Lucifer near one of his vessel’s more recent burns. Neither paid Gabriel much attention. 

“Annnnnnyway, I think that’s my cue to leave. You’re welcome, by the way, Luci.” Gabriel was shaking his head when Sam looked back at him, an amused smile on his face. 

To Sam’s surprise, Lucifer held out a hand to stop Gabriel from flying away. “Wait...I actually have something I need to tell you. And Sam.” 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, but walked over to one of the comfortable chairs in the room and dropped into it. “I’m listening.” 

Lucifer looked at Sam apologetically, wrinkling his nose. “I should’ve told you this earlier, but I decided to put it off. Now I wish I hadn’t. Have a seat,” he added. 

Sam made his way to one of the chairs and sat in it, as did Lucifer, who took a deep breath. “I’ve...well. I’ve reconsidered. I let Death off his leash, and put Plague back...well, it doesn’t matter where. I’m officially cancelling the Apocalypse. If I can.” 

Sam’s heart was in his throat. “Really? You mean it?”

Lucifer nodded, looking serious. “Yeah. We’re still going to need to do something about Michael and the angels, because Dad knows they’re not going to give up on the idea easily.”

Gabriel was nodding. “I can probably help with that,” he agreed. He was looking at Lucifer thoughtfully, his head tilted to one side just like Cas. He switched to Enochian for the last bit so Sam wouldn't understand. “If you really mean this, brother, and you’re not just saying it to get into Sam’s pants (not that I’d blame you)...I’m proud of you. For whatever the hell that’s worth.” 

Lucifer looked back and forth between the two, and kept talking in English. “I mean it. No matter what Sam decides to do or not do, I’m on your side now. I won’t claim that I’ve completely changed my mind about humans, but…” here he looked fondly at Sam, “At least one of them isn’t all that bad. I’m willing to give the others a second chance.” He cocked his head as if listening to someone they couldn’t hear, and then shook it. “Two. Two aren’t bad.” He looked nervous. “I’m going to try to make this vessel permanent. Nick actually likes being with me.”

“Wait, what? Nick who?” Sam wanted to know, staring at Lucifer. 

“Okay, that’s _definitely_ my cue to leave,” Gabriel chuckled, back to English. “Let me know when you need me.” Sam heard the sound of flapping wings as Gabriel disappeared, but his attention was all on Lucifer.

“Nick Vaughn. He’s, uh, in here with me. Don’t worry,” Lucifer added hastily, “He likes you too. He hasn’t objected to anything we’ve done...in fact, he’s, uh,” Lucifer blushed. “Kinda been cheering me on. I can let you talk to him, if you want.”

Sam’s brain had short-circuited. He had assumed that whatever poor soul had said yes to Lucifer had long since been sent to his final resting place. “How does that even work?” he blurted out before his brain could comprehend anything he’d just been told.

Lucifer seemed to relax slightly, probably assuming that Sam asking questions was a good thing and not just Sam acting on autopilot. “Well,” he said, “Nick said yes to me, so I’m possessing him. If he doesn’t want to see something I do, I put him to sleep, and he has to sleep sometimes anyway, but otherwise, he can see and feel what I’m seeing and feeling. I have control of everything, but he can talk to me if he wants.”

Sam just stared at the archangel. This was a bit...beyond him. Making out with Lucifer had been questionable enough, but making out with someone while someone else is in their head, seeing and feeling everything?

Lucifer made a face. “He wants to talk to you,” he said, and then his face and body changed. There was less pride, perhaps, a bit of a slouch. “Uh. Hey, Sam. I’m Nick, the dude who said yes to Lucifer. I imagine you have questions for me,” he said, looking vaguely apologetic. 

“Why?”

“Why did I say yes, or why am I okay with what you two are doing?”

“Yes--I mean, both,” Sam stammered, shaking his head to try to clear it. 

“I said yes because I didn’t really have anything else to live for,” Nick replied with a shrug. “And Lucifer promised me we’d get revenge for my family. Which we did,” he replied, with a smirk. “Now, I’m...content. Look, your instincts aren’t wrong. He’s not the bad guy we’ve all been told he was. He’s not lying to you; as far as I know, he’s never lied to you. Or to me.” He paused to let Sam process that information. 

Sam absorbed what he could, although he was slowly shaking his head. “And...the other?” Realizing what he was asking, he turned bright red. “Look, if I’d known that anyone else was still in there…”

Nick waved Sam’s concerns away. “Whose idea do you think it was to kiss you in the first place, Sam? He barely knew what kissing was. Anyway, you’re easy on the eyes,” he said, giving Sam a once-over. “Plus, I like you, even if you’re an idiot half the time. You do realize he decided to help you _ages_ ago; he was just afraid you wouldn’t want to see him anymore once you all stopped the Apocalypse. Hey! I have control here!” He looked down at himself. “Who knew the devil was insecure, huh?” 

Sam still couldn’t quite make his brain work normally. He swallowed, and then eventually said, “So...you’re...okay with this? With us?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “No, Sam, you completely disgust me; haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been saying?” He folded his arms across his chest, and huffed before standing up and walking over to Sam. Without a word, he plopped himself down in Sam’s lap, put his arms around the hunter’s neck, and kissed him soundly. 

Sam was shocked, so Nick had the lead for a while, and he took advantage of it. While his kiss was similar to Lucifer’s, there were differences as well. Sam found himself cataloging them all before, finally, unfreezing and returning the kiss. Nick kissed him just long enough for him to realize that he truly was attracted to Sam, and then pulled away, grinning at him. “I’m making him jealous,” he announced proudly. “So, we good?”

Sam considered it for a few moments, and then nodded. “Yeah. As long as you’re okay with it, we’re good.” 

“Okay. He’s going to take control back. Nice to meet you, Sam. Can’t wait to see what you look like under all that flannel.” Nick’s body shifted, and Sam recognized the exact moment Lucifer took control again. Nick and Lucifer were similar, but he knew that he’d never mistake one for the other now. Lucifer immediately made a face. “Don’t make me revise my count of decent human beings,” he told his chest before looking back up at Sam. 

Sam chuckled, and Lucifer smiled at him. “Now, where were we before your brother so _rudely_ interrupted us?” He leaned forward to kiss Sam, but gave Sam plenty of time to turn away if he’d decided he didn’t want to--for whatever reason. 

Sam, concerns assuaged, leaned forward to meet the devil’s lips. No, he couldn’t explain it...especially not now that he knew that there were two separate beings in the body...but that didn’t mean he didn’t know what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was for them to be wearing fewer clothes.

When they finally broke for air, and to pull their shirts over their heads, Sam murmured, “Thank you for telling me about Nick. It can’t have been easy to tell me the truth.”

“It wasn’t,” Lucifer admitted. “But I told you I’d never lie to you, and I meant it, Sam.” He paused, pulling back a little. “Do you want to let your brother know you’re all right?” He produced a phone from his back pocket and handed it over.

Sam wasn't happy about the interruption, but he had to admit it was a good suggestion; Dean and the others would be worrying about him. Sam quickly took the GPS tag out of the phone, then sent Dean a text: 'Am fine. Lucifer and Gabriel have agreed to help stop apocalypse. You're welcome.' He set the phone on a nearby table after turning it to silent mode. "I can call him in the morning and see what he has to say to that.” Sam tossed his shirt away, and then leaned back in to kiss Lucifer. 

“Should we move to the bed?” Lucifer asked, while Sam attacked his pulse point. 

“Mmmmm. Yes,” Sam replied, standing up and setting Lucifer on his feet.

Lucifer’s responding grin was adorable. “See? I told you you’d say yes to me.” 

Sam snorted; his only reply was to push Lucifer back toward the bed while simultaneously working on removing his belt. Yeah, maybe he’d fallen for the devil. He still didn’t know how he was going to explain that to his family, but he could worry about it tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Want me to write a Bad Things Happen square for you? Find me and my card on Tumblr @Masterpieceofturkeycleverness!


End file.
